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HOW 


JOHN NORTON THE TRAPPER 
KEPT HIS CHRISTMAS 


, 

W. H. H. MURRAY 



BO STON: 

DE WOLFE, FISKE & CO. 

361 and 365 Washington Street. 

1891. 




Copyright, 1S90, 

By De Wolfe, Fiske & Co. 


S. J. PARKHILL & CO., PRINTERS 
BOSTON 


HOW JOHN NORTON THE TRAPPER 
KEPT HIS CHRISTMAS. 


I. 

A cabin. A cabin in the woods. In the 
cabin a great fireplace piled high with logs, 
fiercely ablaze. On either side of the broad 
hearth-stone a hound sat on his haunches, look- 
ing gravely, as only a hound in a meditative 
mood can, into the glowing fire. In the centre 
of the cabin, whose every nook and corner was 
bright with the ruddy firelight, stood a wooden 
table, strongly built and solid. At the table 
sat John Norton, poring over a book, — a book 
large of size, with wooden covers bound in 
leather, brown with age, and smooth as with 
the handling of many generations. The whit- 
ened head of the old man was bowed over the 
broad page, on which one hand rested, with 

3 


4 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


the forefinger marking the sentence. A cabin 
in the woods filled with firelight, a table, a 
book, an old man studying the book. This 
was the scene on Christmas Eve. Outside, 
the earth was white with snow, and in the 
blue sky above the snow was the white moon. 

“ It says here,” said the Trapper, speaking to 
himself, “ it says here, 6 Give to him that 
lacketh, and from him that hath not, withhold 
not thine hand.’ It be a good say in’ fur sartin ; 
and the world would be a good deal better off, 
as I conceit, ef the folks follered the sayin’ a 
leetle more closely.” And here the old man 
paused a moment, and, with his hand still resting 
on the page, and his forefinger still pointing at 
the sentence, seemed pondering what he had 
been reading. At last he broke the silence 
again, saying, — 

“ Yis, the world would be a good deal better 
off, ef the folks in it follered the sayin’ ; ” and 
then he added, “ There’s another spot in the 
book I’d orter look at to-night ; it’s a good ways 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


5 


furder on, but I guess I can find it. Henry 
says that the furder on you git in the book, the 
better it grows, and I conceit the boy may be 
right ; for there be a good deal of murderin’ 
and fightin’ in the fore part of the book, that 
don’t make pleasant readin’, and what the Lord 
wanted to put it in fur is a good deal more 
than a man without book-larnin’ can under- 
stand. Murderin’ be murderin’, whether it be 
in the Bible or out of the Bible; and puttin’ 
it in the Bible, and sayin’ it was done by the 
Lord’s commandment, don’t make it any better. 
And a good deal of the fightin’ they did in the 
old time was sartinly without reason and ag’in 
jedgment, specially where they killed the 
women-folks and the leetle uns.” And while 
the old man had thus been communicating with 
himself, touching the character of much of the 
Old Testament, he had been turning the leaves 
until he had reached the opening chapters of 
the New, and had come to the description of 
the Saviour’s birth, and the angelic announce- 


6 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


ment of it on the earth. Here he paused, and 
began to read. He read as an old man unac- 
customed to letters must read, — slowly and 
with a show of labor, but with perfect content- 
ment as to his progress, and a brightening face. 

“ This isn’t a trail a man can hurry on onless 
he spends a good deal of his time on it, or is 
careless about notin’ the signs, fur the words 
be weighty, and a man must stop at each 
word, and look around awhile, in order to 
git all the meanin’ out of ’em — yis, a man 
orter travel this trail a leetle slow, ef he wants 
to see all there is to see on it.” 

Then the old man began to read : — 

“ ‘ Then there was with the angels a multi- 
tude of the heavenly host,’ — the exact number 
isn’t sot down here,” he muttered ; “ but I con- 
ceit there may have been three or four hunderd, 
— ‘ praisin’ God and singin’, Glory to God in the 
highest, and on ’arth, peace to men of good 
will.’ That’s right,” said the Trapper. “ Yis, 
peace to men of good will. That be the sort 

































































































JOHN NORTON'S CHRISTMAS. 


7 


that desarve peace; the other kind orter stand 
their chances.” And here the old man closed 
the book, — closed it slowly, and with the care 
we take of a treasured thing ; closed it, fast- 
ened the clasps, and carried it to the great 
chest whence he had taken it, putting it away 
in its place. Having done this, he returned 
to his seat, and, moving the chair in front of 
the fire, he looked first at one hound, and then 
at the other, and said, “ Pups, this be Christ- 
mas Eve, and I sartinly trust ye be grateful 
fur the comforts ye have.” 

He said this deliberately, as if addressing 
human companions. The two hounds turned 
their heads toward their master, looked placidly 
into his face, and wagged their tails. 

“ Yis, yis, I understand ye,” said the Trapper. 
“Ye both be comfortable, and, I dare say, that 
arter yer way ye both be grateful, fur, next to 
eatin’, a dog loves the heat, and ye be nigh 
enough to the logs to be toastin’. Yis, this be 
Christmas Eve,” continued the old man, “ and 


8 


JOHN NORTON'S CHRISTMAS. 


in the settlements the folks be gittin’ ready 
their gifts. The young people be tyin’ up the 
evergreens, and the leetle uns be onable to sleep 
because of their dreamin’. It’s a pleasant pic- 
tur’, and I sartinly wish I could see the merry- 
makin’s, as Henry has told me of them, some 
time, but I trust it may be in his own house, 
and with his own. children.” With this pleas- 
ant remark, in respect to the one he loved so 
well, the old man lapsed into silence. But the 
peaceful contentment of his face, as the fire- 
light revealed it, showed plainly that, though 
his lips moved not, his mind was still active 
with pleasant thoughts of the one whose name 
he had mentioned, and whom he so fondly 
loved. At last a more sober look came to his 
countenance, — a look of regret, of self-reproach, 
the look of a man who remembers something 
he should not have forgotten, — and he said, — 
“I ax the Lord to pardin me, that in the 
midst of my plenty I have forgot them that 
may be in want. The shanty sartinly looked 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


9 


open enough the last time I fetched the trail 
past the clearin’, and though with the help of 
the moss and the clay in the bank she might 
make it comfortable, yit, ef the vagabond that 
be her husband has forgot his own, and desarted 
them, as Wild Bill said he had, I doubt ef there 
be vict’als enough in the shanty to keep them 
from starvin’. Yis, pups,” said the old man, 
rising, “ it’ll be a good tramp through the snow, 
but we’ll go in the mornin’, and see ef the 
woman be in want. The boy himself said, 
when he stopped at the shanty last summer, 
afore he went out, that he didn’t see how they 
was to git through the winter, and I reckon he 
left the woman some money, by the way she 
follered him toward the boat ; and he told me 
to bear them in mind when the snow came, and 
see to it they didn’t suffer. I might as well 
git the pack-basket out, and begin to put the 
things in’t, fur it be a goodly distance, and an 
early start will make the day pleasant to the 
woman and the leetle uns, ef vict’als be scant 


10 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


in the cupboard. Yis, I’ll git the pack-basket 
out, and look round a leetle, and see what I 
can find to take ’em. I don’t conceit it’ll make 
much of a show, fur what might be good fur 
a man, won’t be of sarvice to a woman ; and 
as fur the leetle uns, I don’t know ef I’ve got 
a single thing but vict’als that’ll fit ’em. Lord ! 
ef I was near the settlements, I might swap a 
dozen skins fur jest what I wanted to give ’em ; 
but I’ll git the basket out, and look round and 
see what I’ve got.” 

In a moment the great pack-basket had been 
placed in the middle of the floor, and the Trap- 
per was busy overhauling his stores to see what 
he could find that would make a fitting Christ- 
mas gift for those he was to visit on the mor- 
row. A canister of tea was first deposited on 
the table, and, after he had smelled of it, and 
placed a few grains of it on his tongue, like a 
connoisseur, he proceeded to pour more than 
half of its contents into a little bark box, and, 
having carefully tied the cover, he placed it in 
the basket. 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


11 


“ The yarb be of the best,” said the old man, 
putting his nose to the mouth of the canister, 
and taking a long sniff before he inserted the 
stopple — “ the yarb be of the best, fur the 
smell of it goes into the nose strong as mus- 
tard. That be good fur the woman fur sartin, 
and will cheer her sperits when she be down- 
hearted ; fur a woman takes as naterally to tea 
as an otter to his slide, and I warrant it’ll be 
an amazin’ comfort to her, arter the day’s w T ork 
be over, more specially ef the work had been 
heavy, and gone sorter crosswise. Yis, the 
yarb be good fur a woman when things go 
crosswise, and the box’ll be a great help to her 
many and many a night beyend doubt. The 
Lord sartinly had women in mind when he 
made the yarb, and a kindly feelin’ fur their 
infarmities, and, I dare say, they be grateful 
accordin’ to their knowledge.” 

A large cake of maple-sugar followed the tea 
into the basket, and a small chest of honey 
accompanied it. 


12 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


That’s honest sweetenin’,” remarked the 
Trapper with decided emphasis ; “ and that is 
more’n ye can say of the sugar of the settle- 
ments, leastwise ef a man can jedge by the 
stuff they peddle at the clearin’. The bees be 
no cheats ; and a man who taps his own trees, 
and biles the runnin’ into sugar under his own 
eye, knows what kind of sweetenin’ he’s gittin’. 
The woman won’t find any sand in her teeth 
when she takes a bite from that loaf, or stirs a 
leetle of the honey in the cup she’s steepin’.” 

Some salt and pepper were next added to the 
packages already in the basket. A sack of 
flour and another of Indian-meal followed. A 
generous round of pork, and a bag of jerked 
venison, that would balance a twenty-pound 
weight, at least, went into the pack. On these, 
several large-sized salmon-trout-, that had been 
smoked by the Trapper’s best skill, were laid. 
These offerings evidently exhausted the old 
man’s resources, for, after looking round a 
while, and searching the cupboard from bottom 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


13 


to top, he returned to the basket, and contem- 
plated it with satisfaction, indeed, yet with a 
face slightly shaded with disappointment. 

“ The vict’als be all right,” he said, “fur 
there be enough to last ’em a month, and they 
needn’t scrimp themselves either. But eatin 
isn’t all, and the leetle uns was nigh on to naked 
the last time I seed ’em ; and the woman’s dress, 
in spite of the patchin’, looked as ef it would 
desart her, ef she didn’t keep a close eye on’t. 
Lord ! Lord ! what shall I do ? fur there’s room 
enough in the basket, and the woman and the 
leetle uns need garments ; that is, it’s more’n 
likely they do, and I haven’t a garment in the 
cabin to take ’em.” 

“Hillo! Hillo ! John Norton! John Norton! 
Hillo ! ” The voice came sharp and clear, cut- 
ting keenly through the frosty air and the 
cabin walls. “ John Norton ! ” 

“Wild Bill!” exclaimed the Trapper. “I 
sartinly hope the vagabond hasn’t been a- 
drinkin’. His voice sounds as ef he was sober; 


14 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


but the chances be ag’in the signs, fur, ef he 
isn’t drunk, the marcy of the Lord or the 
scarcity of liquor has kept him from it. I’ll 
go to the door, and see what he wants. It’s 
sartinly too cold to let a man stand in the 
holler long, whether he be sober or drunk ; ” 
with which remark the Trapper stepped to the 
door, and flung it open. 

“What is it, Wild Bill? what is it?” he 
called. “Be ye drunk, or be ye sober, that ye 
stand there shoutin’ in the cold with a log 
cabin within a dozen rods of ye ? ” 

“ Sober, John Norton, sober. Sober as a 
Moravian preacher at a funeral.” 

“ Yer trappin’ must have been mighty poor, 
then, Wild Bill, for the last month, or the 
Dutchman at the clearin’ has watered his 
liquor by a wrong measure for once. But ef 
ye be sober, why do ye stand there whoopin’ 
like an Indian, when the ambushment is on- 
kivered and the bushes be alive with the 
knaves ? Why don’t ye come into the cabin, 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


15 


like a sensible man, ef ye be sober ? The 
signs be ag’in ye, Wild Bill ; yis, the signs 
be ag’in ye.” 

“Come into the cabin ! ” retorted Bill. “ An’ 
so I would mighty lively, ef I could ; but the 
load is heavy, and your path is as slippery as 
the plank over the creek at the Dutchman’s, 
when I’ve two horns aboard.” 

“ Load ! What load have ye been draggin’ 
through the woods?” exclaimed the Trapper. 
“ Ye talk as ef my cabin was the Dutchman’s, 
and ye was balancin’ on the plank at this minit.” 

“ Come and see for yourself,” answered Wild 
Bill, “ and give me a lift. Once in your cabin, 
and in front of your fire, I’ll answer all the 
questions you may ask. But I’ll answer no 
- more until I’m inside the door.” 

66 Ye be sartinly sober to-night,” answered 
the Trapper, laughing, as he started down the 
hill, “ fur ye talk sense, and that’s more’n a 
man can do when he talks through the nozzle 
of a bottle. 


16 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


“ Lord-a-massy ! ” exclaimed the old man as 
he stood over the sled, and saw the huge box 
that was on it. u Lord-a-massy, Bill ! what a 
tug ye must have had ! and how ye come to 
be sober with sech a load behind ye is beyend 
the reckinin’ of a man who has knowed ye 
nigh on to twenty year. I never knowed ye 
disapp’int one arter this fashion afore.” 

“ It is strange, I confess,” answered Wild 
Bill, appreciating the humor that lurked in 
the honesty of the old man’s utterance. “ It 
is strange, that’s a fact, for it’s Christmas 
Eve, and I ought to be roaring drunk at the 
Dutchman’s this very minit, according to cus- 
tom ; but I pledged him to get the box 
through jest as he wanted it done, and that 
I wouldn’t touch a drop of liquor until I had 
done it. And here it is according to promise, 
for here I am sober, and here is his box.” 

“ H’ist along, Bill, h’ist along ! ” exclaimed 
the Trapper, who suddenly became alive with 
interest, for he surmised whence the box had 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


17 


come. “ H’ist along, Bill, I say, and have 
done with yer talkin’, and let’s see what ye 
have got on yer sled. It’s strange that a 
man of your sense will stand jibberin’ here 
in the snow with a roarin’ fire within a dozen 
rods of ye.” 

Whatever retort Wild Bill may have con- 
templated, it was effectually prevented by the 
energy with which the Trapper pushed the 
sled after him. Indeed, it was all he could 
do to keep it off his heels, so earnestly did 
the old man propel it from behind ; and so, 
with many a slip and scramble on the part of 
Wild Bill, and a continued muttering on the 
part of the Trapper about the “ nonsense of 
a man’s jibberin’ in the snow arter a twenty- 
mile drag, with a good fire within a dozen 
rods of him,” the sled was shot through the 
doorway into the cabin, and stood fully re- 
vealed in the bright blaze of the firelight. 

“ Take off yer coat and yer moccasins, Wild 
Bill,” exclaimed the Trapper, as he closed the 


18 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


door, “and git in front of the fire; pull out 
the coals, and set the tea-pot a-steepin’. The 
yarb will take the chill out of ye better than 
the pizen of the Dutchman. Ye’ll find a 
haunch of venison in the cupboard that I 
roasted to-day, and some johnny-cake ; I doubt 
ef either be cold. Help yerself, help yerself, 
Bill, while I take a peep at the box.” 

No one can appreciate the intensity of the 
old man’s feelings in reference to the mysteri- 
ous box, unless he calls to mind the strictness 
with which he was wont to interpret and fulfil 
the duties of hospitality. To him the coming 
of a guest was a welcome event, and the 
service which the latter might require of the 
host both a sacred and pleasant obligation. 
To serve a guest with his own hand, which he 
did with a natural courtesy peculiar to himself, 
was his delight. Nor did it matter with him 
what the quality of the guest might be. The 
wandering trapper or the vagabond Indian was 
served with as sincere attention as the richest 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


19 


visitor from the city. But now his feelings were 
so stirred by the sight of the box thus strangely 
brought to him, and by his surmise touching who 
the sender might be, that Wild Bill was left to 
help himself without the old man’s attendance. 

It was evident that Bill was equal to the 
occasion, and was not aware of the slightest 
neglect. At least, his actions were not, by the 
neglect of the Trapper, rendered less decided, or 
the quality of his appetite affected, for the ex- 
amination he made of the old man’s cupboard, 
and the familiarity with which he handled the 
contents, made it evident that he was not in 
the least abashed, or uncertain how to proceed; 
for he attacked the provisions with the energy 
of a man who had fasted long, and who has at 
last not only come suddenly to an ample supply 
of food, but also feels that for a few moments, 
at least, he will be unobserved. The Trapper 
turned toward the box, and approached it for 
a deliberate examination. 

“ The boards be sawed,” he said, “and they 


20 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


come from the mills of the settlement, for the 
smoothin’ -plane has been over ’em.” Then he 
inspected the jointing, and noted how truly the 
edges were drawn. 

“ The box has come a goodly distance,” he 
said to himself, “fur there isn’t a workman 
this side of the Horicon that could j’int it in 
that fashion. There sartinly orter be some let- 
terinh or a leetle bit of writin’, somewhere 
about the chest, tellin’ who the box belonged 
to, and to whom it was sent.” Saying this, the 
old man unlashed the box from the sled, and 
rolled it over, so that the side might come 
uppermost. As no direction appeared on the 
smoothly planed surface, he rolled it half over 
again. A little white card neatly tacked to 
the board was now revealed. The Trapper 
stooped, and on the card read, — 

JOHN NORTON, 


TO THE CARE OF WILD BILL. 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


21 


“Yis, the ‘J’ be his’n,” muttered the old 
man, as he spelled out the word J-o-h-n, “ and 
the big ‘ N ’ be as plain as an otter-trail in the 
snow. The boy don’t make his letters over- 
plain, as I conceit, but the ‘ J ’ and the ‘ N ’ be 
his’n.” And then he paused for a full minute, 
his head bowed over the box. “ The boy don’t 
forgit,” he murmured, and he wiped his eyes 
with the back of his hand. “ The boy don’t 
forgit.” And then he added, “ No, he isn’t one 
of the forgittin’ kind. Wild Bill,” said the 
Trapper, as he turned toward that personage, 
whose attack on the venison haunch was as 
determined as ever, “ Wild Bill, this box be 
from Henry ! ’ ’ 

“ I shouldn’t wonder,” answered that individ- 
ual, speaking from a mass of edibles that filled 
his mouth. 

“ And it be a Christmas gift ! ” continued the 
old man. 

“ It looks so,” returned Bill, as laconically as 
before. 


22 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


“ And it be a mighty heavy box ! ” said the 
Trapper. 

“ You’d ’a’ thought so, if you had dragged it 
over the mile-and-a-half carry. It was good 
sleddin’ on the river, but the carry took the 
stuff out of me.” 

“ Very like, very like,” responded the Trapper ; 
“ fur the gullies be deep on the carry, and it 
must have been slippery haulin’. Didn’t ye git 
a leetle ’arnest in yer feelin’s, Bill,' afore ye got 
to the top of the last ridge ? ” 

“Old man,” answered Bill' as he wheeled his 
chair toward the Trapper, with a pint cup of tea 
in the one hand, and wiping his mustache with 
the coat-sleeve of the other, “ I got it to the 
top three times, or within a dozen feet from 
the top, and each time it got away from me 
and went to the bottom agin ; for the roots was 
slippery, and I couldn’t git a grip on the toe 
of my moccasins ; but I held on the rope, and I 
got to the bottom neck and neck with the sled 
every time.” 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


23 


“ Ye did well, ye did well,” responded the 
Trapper, laughing; “fur a loaded sled goes 
down hill mighty fast when the slide is a steep 
un, and a man who gits to the bottom as quick 
as the sled must have a good grip, and be con- 
siderably in ’arnest. But ye got her up finally 
by the same path, didn’t ye ? ” 

“ Yes, I got her up,” returned Bill. “ The 
fourth time I went for that ridge, I fetched her 
to the top, for I was madder than a hornet.” 

“ And what did ye do, Bill ? ” continued the 
Trapper. “ What did ye do when ye got to the 
top ? ” 

“ I jest tied that sled to a sapling so it 
wouldn’t git away agin, and I got on to the 
top of that box, and I talked to that gulch a 
minit or two in a way that satisfied my 
feelings.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder,” answered the Trapper, 
laughing, “ fur ye must have been a good deal 
riled. But ye did well to git the box through, 
and ye got here in time, and ye’ve ’arnt yer 


24 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


wages; and now, ef ye’ll tell me how much 'I 
am to pay ye, ye shall have yer money, and ye 
needn’t scrimp yourself on the price, Wild Bill, 
for the drag has been a hard un ; so tell me yer 
price, and I’ll count ye out the money.” 

“ Old man,” answered Bill, “I didn’t bring 
that box through for money, and I won’t take 
a ” — 

Perhaps Wild Bill was about to emphasize 
his refusal by some verbal addition to the sim- 
ple statement, but, if it was his intention, he 
checked himself, and said, “ a cent.” 

“ It’s well said,” answered the Trapper ; “ yis, 
it’s well said, and does jestice to yer feelin’s, I 
don’t doubt ; but an extra pair of breeches one 
of these days wouldn’t hurt ye, and the money 
won’t come amiss.” 

“ I tell ye, old man,” returned Wild Bill 
earnestly, “ I won’t take a cent. I’ll allow 
there’s several colors in my trousers, for I’ve 
patched in a. dozen different pieces off and on, 
and I doubt, as ye hint, if the patching holds 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


25 


together much longer ; but I’ve eaten at your 
table and slept in your cabin more than once, 
John Norton, and whether I’ve come to it sober 
or drunk, your door was never shut in my face, 
and I don’t forget either that the man who sent 
you that box fished me from the creek one day, 
when I had walked into it with two bottles of 
the Dutchman’s wdiiskey in my pocket, and not 
one cent of your money or his will I take for 
bringing the box in to you.” 

“ Have it yer own way, ef ye will,” said the 
Trapper ; “ but I won’t forgit the deed ye have 
did, and the boy won’t forgit it neither. Come, 
let’s clear away the vict’als, and we’ll open the 
box. It’s sartinly a big un, and I would like 
to see what he has put inside of it.” 

The opening of the box was a spectacle such 
as gladdens the heart to see. At such moments 
the countenance of the Trapper was as facile in 
the changefulness of its expression as that of a 
child. The passing feelings of his soul found 
an adequate mirror in his face, as the white 


26 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


clouds of a summer day find full reflection in 
the depth of a tranquil lake. He was not 
too old or too learned to be wise, for the wis- 
dom of hearty happiness was his, — the wisdom 
of being glad, and gladly showing it. 

As for Wild Bill, the best of his nature was 
in the ascendant, and with the curiosity and 
pleasure of a child, and a happiness as sincere 
as if the box was his own, he assisted at the 
opening. 

“ The man who made this box did the work 
in a workmanlike fashion,” said the Trapper, as 
he strove to insert the edge of his hatchet into 
the jointing of the cover, “ fur he shet these 
boards together like the teeth of a bear-trap 
when the bars be well ’iled. It’s a pity the boy 
didn’t send him along with the box, Wild Bill, 
fur it sartinly looks as ef we should have to 
kindle a fire on it, and burn a hole in through 
the cover.” 

At last, by dint of great exertion, and with 
the assistance of Wild Bill and the poker, the 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


27 


cover of the box was wrenched off, and the 
contents were partially revealed. 

“ Glory to God, Wild Bill!” exclaimed the 
Trapper. “ Here be yer breeches ! ” and he held 
up a pair of pantaloons made of the stoutest 
Scotch stuff. “Yis, here be yer breeches, fur 
here on the waistband be pinned a bit of paper, 
and on it be written, 4 Fur Wild Bill.’ And 
here be a vest to match ; and here be a jacket; 
and here be two pairs of socks in the pockets 
of the jacket; and here be two woollen shirts, 
one packed away in each sleeve. And here ! ” 
shouted the old man, as he turned up the lapel 
of the coat, “Wild Bill, look here! Here be a 
five-dollar note!” and the old man swung one 
of the socks over his head, and shouted, “ Hur- 
rah for Wild Bill ! ” And the two hounds, 
catching the enthusiasm of their master, lifted 
their muzzles into the air, and bayed deep and 
long, till the cabin fairly shook with the joyful 
uproar of man and dogs. 

It is doubtful if any gift ever took the recip- 


28 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


ient more by surprise than this bestowed upon 
Wild Bill. It is true that, judged by the law 
of strict deserts, the poor fellow had not de- 
served much of the world, and certainly the 
world had not forgotten to be strictly just in 
his case, for it had not given him much. It is 
a question if he had ever received a gift before 
in all his life, certainly not one of any consid- 
erable value. His reception of this generous and 
thoughtful provision for his wants was charac- 
teristic both of his training and his nature. 

The old Trapper, as he had ended his cheer- 
ing, flung the pantaloons, the vest, the jacket, 
the socks, the shirts, and the money into his 
lap. 

For a moment the poor fellow sat looking at 
the warm and costly garments that he held in 
his hands, silent in an astonishment too pro- 
found for speech, and then, recovering the use 
of his organs, he gasped forth, — 

“I swear! ” and then broke down, and sobbed 
like a child. 



/X'X'! 


ISM 

vsa&jS&iaaL 




■ 


igllilll 














JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


29 


The. Trapper, kneeling beside the box, looked 
at the poor fellow with a face radiant with hap- 
piness, while his mouth was stretched with 
laughter, utterly unconsious that tears were 
brimming his own eyes. 

“ Old Trapper,” said Wild Bill, rising to his 
feet, and holding the garments forth in his 
hands, u this is the first present I ever received 
in my life. I have been kicked and cussed, 
sneered at and taunted, and I deserved it all. 
But no man ever gave me a lift, or showed he 
cared a cent whether I starved or froze, lived 
or died. You know, John Norton, what a. fool 
I’ve been, and what has ruined me, and that 
when sober I’m more of a man than many who 
hoot me. And here I swear, old man, that 
while a button is on this jacket, or two threads 
of these breeches hold together, I’ll never touch 
a drop of liquor, sick or well, living or dying, 
so help me God ! and there’s my hand on it.” 

u Amen!” exclaimed the Trapper, as he 
sprang to his feet, and clasped in his own strong 


30 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


palm the hand that the other had stretched 
out to him. “The Lord in his marcy be nigh 
ye -when tempted, Bill, and keep ye true to 
yer pledge ! ” 

Of all the pleasant sights that the angels of 
God, looking from their high homes, saw on 
earth that Christmas Eve, perhaps not one was 
dearer in their eyes than the spectacle here 
described, — the two sturdy men standing with 
their hands clasped in solemn pledge of the 
reformation of the one, and the helping sym- 
pathy of the other, above that Christmas-box 
in the cabin in the woods. 

It is not necessary to follow in detail the 
Trapper’s further examination of the box. The 
reader’s imagination, assisted by many a happy 
reminiscence, will enable him to realize the 
scene. There was a small keg of powder, a 
large plug of lead, a little chest of tea, a bag of 
sugar, and also one of coffee. There were 
nails, matches, thread, buttons, a woollen 
under-jacket, a pair of mittens, and a cap of 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


31 


choicest fur, made of an otter’s skin that 
Henry himself had trapped a year before. All 
these and other packages were taken out one 
by one, carefully examined, and characteristi- 
cally commented on by the Trapper, and passed 
to Wild Bill, who in turn inspected and com- 
mented on them, and then laid them carefully 
on the table. Beneath these packages was a 
thin board, constituting a sort of division 
between its upper and lower half. 

“ There seems Ho be a sort of cellar to this 
box,” said the Trapper, as he sat looking at 
the division. “ I shouldn’t be surprised ef the 
boy himself was in here somewhere, so be 
ready, Bill, fur anything, fur the Lord only 
knows what’s underneath this board.” Saying 
which, the old man thrust his hand under one 
end of the division, and pulled out a bundle 
loosely tied with a string, which became un- 
fastened as the Trapper lifted the roll from 
its place in the box, and, as he shook it open, 
and held its contents at arm’s length up to 


82 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


the light, the startled eyes of Wild Bill, and 
the earnest gaze of the Trapper, beheld a 
woman’s dress ! 

“ Heavens and ’arth, Bill ! ” exclaimed the 
Trapper, “ what’s this ? ” And then a flash 
of light crossed his face, in the illumination 
of which the look of wonder vanished, and, 
dropping upon his knees, he flung the dividing 
board out of the box, and his companion and 
himself saw at a glance what was underneath. 

Children’s shoes, and dresses of warmest 
stuffs ; tippets and mittens ; a full suit for ' a 
little boy, boots and all ; a jack-knife and 
whistle ; two dolls dressed in brave finery, 
with flaxen hair and blue eyes ; a little 
hatchet ; a huge ball of yarn, and a hundred 
and one things needed in the household ; and 
underneath all a Bible ; and under that a 
silver star on a blue field, and pinned to the 
silk a scrap of paper, on which was written, — 

“ Hang this over the. picture of the lad.” 

“Ay, ay,” said the Trapper in a tremulous 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


88 


voice, as he looked at the silver star, “ it shall 
be done as ye say, boy ; but the lad has got be- 
yend the clouds, and is walkin’ a trail that is 
lighted from eend to eend by a light clearer 
and brighter than ever come from the shinin’ of 
any star. I hope we may be found worthy to 
walk it with him, boy, when we, too, have come 
to the edge of the Great Clearin’.” 

To the Trapper it was perfectly evident for 
whom the contents of the box were intended ; 
but the sender had left nothing in doubt, for, 
when the old man had lifted from the floor the 
board that he had flung out, he discovered some 
writing traced with heavy pencilling on the 
wood, and which without much effort he spelled 
out to Wild Bill, — 

“ Give these on Christmas Day to the woman 
at the dismal hut, and a merry Christmas to you 
all” 

“ Ay, ay,” said the Trapper, “ it shall be did, 
barrin’ accident, as ye say ; and a merry Christ- 
mas it’ll make fur us all. Lord-a-massy ! what 


84 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


will the poor woman say when she and her 
leetle uns git these warm garments on ? There 
be no trouble about fillin’ the basket now ; no, 
I sartinly can’t git half of the stuff in. Wild 
Bill, I guess ye’ll have to do some more sleddin’ 
to-morrow, fur these presents must go over the 
mountain in the mornin’, ef we have to harness 
up the pups.” And then he told his companion 
of the poor woman and the children, and his 
intended visit to them on the morrow. 

“ I fear,” he said, “ that they be havin’ a hard 
time of it, ’specially ef her husband has desarted 
her.” 

“ Little good would he do her, if he was with 
her,” answered Wild Bill, “ for he’s a lazy knave 
when he’s sober, and a thief as well, as you and 
I know, John Norton ; for lie’s fingered our 
traps more than once, and swapped the skins 
for liquor at the Dutchman’s; but he’s thieved 
once too many times, for the folks in the settle- 
ment has ketched him in the act, and they put 
him in the jail for six months, as I heard day 
before yesterday.” 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


85 


“ I’m glad on’t ; yis, I’m glad on’t,” an- 
swered the Trapper ; “ and 1 hope they’ll keep 
him there till they’ve larnt him how to work. 
I’ve had my eye on the knave fur a good while, 
and the last time I seed him I told him ef he 
fingered any more of my traps, I’d larn him the 
commandments in a way he wouldn’t forgit ; 
and, as I had him in hand, and felt a leetle like 
talkin’ that mornin’, I gin him a piece of my 
mind, techin’ his treatment of his wife and leetle 
uns, that he didn’t relish, I fancy, fur he winced 
and squirmed like a fox in a trap. Yis, I’m 
glad they’ve got the knave, and I hope they’ll 
keep him till he’s answered fur his misdoin’ ; 
but I’m sartinly afeered the poor woman be 
havin’ a hard time of it.” 

“ I fear so, too,” answered Wild Bill ; “ and if 
I can do anything to help you in your plans, 
jest say the word, and I’m your man to back or 
haul, jest as you want me.” 

And so it was arranged that they should go 
over the mountain together on the morrow, and 


36 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


take the provisions and the gifts that were in 
the box to the poor woman ; and, after talking 
awhile of the happiness their visit would give, 
the two men, happy in their thoughts, and with 
their hearts full of that peace which passe th the 
understanding of the selfish, laid themselves 
down to sleep ; and over the two, — the one 
drawing to the close of an honorable and well- 
spent life, the other standing at the middle of 
a hitherto useless existence, but facing the fu- 
ture with a noble resolution, — over the two, as 
they slept, the angels of Christmas kept their 
watch. 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


37 


II. 

On the other side of the mountain stood the 
dismal hut ; and the stars of that blessed eve 
had shone down upon the lonely clearing in 
which it stood, and the smooth white surface of 
the frozen and snow-covered lake which lay in 
front of it, as brightly as they had shone on the 
cabin of the Trapper ; but no friendly step had 
made its trail in the surrounding snow, and no 
blessed gift had been brought to its solitary 
door. 

As the evening wore on, the great clearing 
round about it remained drearily void of sound 
or motion, and filled only with the white still- 
ness of the frosty, snow-lighted night. Once, 
indeed, a wolf stole from underneath the dark 
balsams into the white silence, and, running up 
a huge log that lay aslant a ledge of rocks, 


38 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


looked across and round the great opening in 
the woods, stood a moment, then gave a shiver- 
ing sort of a yelp, and scuttled back under the 
shadows of the forest, as if its darkness was 
warmer than the frozen stillness of the open 
space. An owl, perched somewhere amid the 
pine-tops, snug and warm within the cover of 
its arctic plumage, engaged from time to time 
in solemn gossip with some neighbor that lived 
on the opposite shore of the lake. And once 
a raven, roosting on the dry bough of a light- 
ning-blasted pine, dreamed that the white moon- 
light was the light of dawn, and began to stir 
his sable wings, and croak a harsh welcome ; 
but awakened by his blunder, and ashamed of 
his mistake, he broke oh in the very midst of 
his discordant call, and again settled gloomily 
down amid his black plumes to his interrupted 
repose, making by his sudden silence the sur- 
rounding silence more silent than before. It 
seemed as if the very angels, who, we are 
taught, fly abroad over all the earth that blessed 











































































































JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


39 


night, carrying gifts to every household, had 
forgotten the cabin in the woods, and had left 
it to the cold hospitality of unsympathetic 
nature. 

Within the lonely hut, which thus seemed for- 
gotten of Heaven itself, sat a woman huddling 
her young — two girls and a boy. The fireplace 
was of monstrous proportions, and the chimney 
yawned upward so widely that one looking up 
the sooty passage might see the stars shining 
overhead. A little fire burned feebly in the 
huge stone recess : scant warmth might such a 
fire yield, kindled in such a fireplace, to those 
around it. Indeed, the little flame seemed con- 
scious of its own inability, and burned with a 
wavering and mistrustful flicker, as if it was 
discouraged in view of the task set before it, 
and had more than half concluded to go out 
altogether. 

The cabin was of large size, and undivided 
into apartments. The little fire was only able 
to illuminate the central section, and more than 


40 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


half of the room was hidden in utter darkness. 
The woman’s face, which the faint flame over 
which she was crouched revealed with painful 
clearness, showed pale and haggard. The in- 
duration of exposure and the tightening lines 
of hunger sharpened and marred a countenance 
which a happier fortune would have kept even 
comely. It had that old look about it which 
comes from wretchedness rather than age, and 
the weariness of its expression was pitiful to 
see. Was it work or vain waiting for happier 
fortunes that made her look so tired ? Alas ! 
the weariness of waiting for what we long for, 
and long for purely, but which never comes ! 
Is it the work or the longing — the long long- 
ing — that has put the silver in your head, 
friend, and scarred the smooth bloom of your 
cheeks, my lady, with those ugly lines ? 

“ Mother, I’m hungry,” said the little boy, 
looking up into the woman’s face. “ Can’t I 
have just a little more to eat ? ” 

“ Be still,” answered the woman sharply, 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


41 


speaking in the tones of vexed inability. “ I’ve 
given yon almost the last morsel in the house.” 

The boy said nothing more, but nestled up 
more closely to his mother’s knee, and stuck 
one little stockingless foot out until the cold 
toes were half hidden in the ashes. 0 warmth ! 
blessed warmth ! how pleasant art thou to old 
and young alike ! Thou art the emblem of life, 
as thy absence is the evidence and sign of life’s 
cold opposite. Would that all the cold toes in 
the world could get to my grate to-night, and 
all the shivering ones be gathered to this fire- 
side ! Ay, and that the children of poverty, 
that lack for bread, might get their hungry 
hands into that well-filled cupboard there, too ! 

In a moment the woman said, “You children 
had better go to bed. You’ll be warmer in the 
rags than in this miserable fireplace.” 

The words were harshly spoken, as if the 
very presence of the children, cold and hungry 
as they were, was a vexation to her ; and they 
moved off in obedience to her command. 


42 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


0 cursed poverty ! I know thee to be of Satan, 
for I myself have eaten at thy scant table, and 
slept in thy cold bed. And never yet have I 
seen thee bring one smile to human lips, or dry 
one tear as it fell from a human eye. But I 
have seen thee sharpen the tongue for biting 
speech, and harden the tender heart. Ay, I’ve 
seen thee make even the presence of love a bur- 
den, and cause the mother to wish that the puny 
babe nursing her scant breast had never been 
born. And so the children went to their un- 
sightly bed, and silence reigned in the hut. 

“ Mother,” said one of the girls, speaking out 
of the darkness, — “ mother, isn’t this Christmas 
Eve ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered the woman sharply. “ Go 
to sleep.” And again there was silence. 

Happy is childhood, that amid whatever 
deprivation and misery it can so weary itself 
in the day that when night comes on it can 
lose in the forgetfulness of slumber its sorrows 
and wants ! 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


43 


Thus, while the children lost the sense of 
their unhappy surroundings, including the keen 
pangs of hunger, for a time, and under the tat- 
tered blankets that covered them saw, perhaps, 
visions of enchanting lands, and in their dreams 
feasted at those wonderful tables which hungry 
children see only in sleep, to the poor woman 
sitting at the failing fire there came no surcease 
of sorrow, and no vision threw even an evanes- 
cent brightness over the hard, cold facts of her 
surroundings. And the reality of her condition 
was dire enough, God knows. Alone in the 
wilderness, miles from any human habitation, 
the trails covered deep with snow, her pro- 
visions exhausted, actual suffering already upon 
them, and starvation staring them squarely in 
the face. No wonder that her soul sank within 
her ; no wonder that her thoughts turned toward 
bitterness. 

“ Yes, it’s Christmas Eve,” she muttered, 
“and the rich will keep it gayly. God sends 
them presents enough ; but you see if he remem- 


44 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


bers me ! Oh, they may talk about the angels 
of Christmas Eve flying abroad to-night, loaded 
with gifts, but they’ll fly mighty high above 
this shanty, I reckon ; no, they won’t even drop 
a piece of meat as they soar past.” And so she 
sat muttering and moaning over her woes, and 
they were heavy enough, — too heavy for her 
poor soul, unassisted, to lift, — while the flame 
on the hearth grew thinner and thinner, until 
it had no more warmth in it than the shadow 
of a ghost, and, like its resemblance, was about 
to flit and fade away. At last she said, in a 
softened tone, as if the remembrance of the 
Christmas legend had softened her surly thoughts 
and sweetened the bitter mood, — 

“ Perhaps I’m wrong to take on so. Perhaps 
it isn’t God’s fault that I and my children are 
deserted and starving. But why should the 
innocent be punished for the guilty, and why 
should the wicked have enough and to spare, 
while those who do no evil go half naked and 
starved ? ” 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


45 


Alas, poor woman ! that puzzle has puzzled 
many besides thee, and many lips besides thine 
have asked that question, querulously or en- 
treatingly, many a time ; but whether they 
asked it in vexation and rebellion of spirit, or 
humbly besought Heaven to answer, to neither 
murmur nor prayer did Heaven vouchsafe a 
response. Is it because we are so small, or, 
being small, are so inquisitive, that the Great 
Oracle of the blue remains so dumb when we 
cry? 

At this point the poor little flame, as if 
unable to abide the cold much longer, flared 
fitfully, and uneasily shifted itself from brand 
to brand, threatening with many a flicker to 
go out ; but the woman, with her elbows on 
her knees, and her face settled firmly between 
her hands, still sat with eyes that saw not the 
feeble flame at which they so steadily gazed. 

“I will do it, I ivill do it /” she suddenly 
exclaimed. “ I will make one more effort. 
They shall not starve while I have strength to 


46 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


try. Perhaps God will aid me. They say he 
always does at the last pinch, and he certainly 
sees that I am there now. I wonder if he’s 
been waiting for me to get just where I am be- 
fore he helped me ? There is one more chance 
left, and I’ll make the trial. I’ll go down to 
the shore where I saw the big tracks in the 
snow. It’s a long way, but I shall get there 
somehow. If God is going to be good to me, 
he won’t let me freeze or faint on the way. 
Yes, I’ll creep into bed now, and try and get 
a little sleep, for I must be strong in the morn- 
ing.” And with these words the poor woman 
crept off to her bed, and burrowed down,, more 
like an animal than a human being, beside her 
little ones, as they lay huddled close together 
and asleep, down in the rags. 

What angel was it that followed her to her 
miserable couch, and stirred kindly feelings in 
her bosom ? Some sweet one, surely ; for she 
shortly lifted herself to a sitting posture, and, 
gently drawing down the old blanket with 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


47 


which the children, for warmth’s sake, had 
wrapped their heads, looked as only a mother 
might at the three little faces lying side by 
side, and, bending tenderly over them, she 
placed a gentle kiss upon the forehead of each ; 
then she nestled down again in her own place, 
and said, “ Perhaps God will help me.” And 
with this sentence, half a prayer and half a 
doubt, born on the one hand from that sweet' 
faith which never quite deserts a woman’s 
bosom, and on the other from that bitter expe- 
rience which had made her seem in her own 
eyes deserted of God, she fell asleep. 

She, too, dreamed ; but her dreaming was 
only the prolongation of her waking thoughts ; 
for long after her eyes closed she moved uneasily 
on her hard couch, and muttered, “ Perhaps God 
will. Perhaps ” — 

Sad is it for us who are old enough to have 
tasted the bitterness of that cup which life 
sooner or later presents to all lips, and have 
borne the burden of its toil and fretting, that 


48 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


our vexations and disappointments pursue us 
even in our slumber, disturbing our sleep with 
reproachful visions and the sound of voices 
whose upbraiding robs us of our otherwise peace- 
ful repose. Perhaps somewhere in the years to 
come, after much wandering and weariness, 
guided of God, we may come to that fountain 
of which the ancients dreamed, and for which 
the noblest among them sought so long, and 
died seeking ; plunging into which, we shall 
find our lost youth in its cool depths, and, 
rising refreshed and strengthened, shall go 
on our eternal journey re-clothed with 
beauty, the innocence, and the happiness 
our youth. 

The poor woman slept uneasily, and with 
much muttering to herself ; but the rapid hours 
slid noiselessly down the icy grooves of night, 
and soon the cold morning put its white face 
against the frozen windows of the east, and 
peered shiveringly forth. Who says the earth 
cannot look as cold and forbidding as the hu- 



JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


49 


man countenance ? The sky hung over the 
frozen world like a dome of gray steel, whose 
invisibly matched plates were riveted here and 
there by a few white, gleaming stars. The sur- 
face of the snow sparkled with crystals that 
flashed colorlessly cold. The air seemed armed, 
and full of sharp, eager points that pricked the 
skin painfully. The great tree-trunks cracked 
their sharp protests against the frosty entrances 
being made beneath their bark. The lake, from 
under the smothering ice, roared in dismay and 
pain, and sent the thunders of its wrath at its 
imprisonment around the resounding shores. 
A bitter morn, a bitter morn, — ah me ! a 
bitter morn for the poor ! 

The woman, wakened by the gray light, moved 
in the depths of the tattered blankets, sat* up- 
right, rubbed her eyes with her hands, looked 
about her as if to recall her scattered senses, 
and then, as thought returned, crept stealthily 
out of the hole in which she had lain, that 
she might not wake the children, who, coiled 


50 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


together, slumbered on, still closely clasped in 
the arms of blessed unconsciousness. 

“ They had better sleep,” she said to herself. 
“ If I fail to bring them meat, I hope they will 
never wake ! ” 

Ah ! if the poor woman could only have fore- 
seen the bitter disappointment, or that other 
something which the future was to bring her, 
would she have made that prayer ? Is it best 
for us, as some say, that we cannot see what is 
coming, but must weep on till the last tear is 
shed, uncheered by the sweet fortune so nigh, 
or laugh unchecked until the happy tones are 
mingled with, and smothered by, the rising 
moan ? Is it best, I wonder ? 

She noiselessly gathered together what addi- 
tions she could make to her garments, and 
then, taking down the rifle from its hangings, 
opened the door, and stepped forth into the 
outer cold. There was a look of brave deter- 
mination in her eyes as she faced the chilly 
greeting the world gave her, and with more 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


51 


of hopefulness than had before appeared upon 
her countenance, she struck bravely off along 
the lake shore, which at this point receded 
toward the mountain. 

For an hour she kept steadily on, with her 
eyes constantly on the alert for the least sign 
of the wished and prayed-for game. Suddenly 
she stopped, and crouched down in the snow, 
peering straight ahead. Well might she seek 
concealment, for there, standing on a point of 
land that jutted sharply out into the lake, not 
forty rods away, unscreened and plain to view, 
stood a buck of such goodly proportions as one 
even in years of hunting might not see. 

The woman’s eyes fairly gleamed as she saw 
the noble animal standing thus in full sight ; 
but who may tell the agony of fear and hope 
that filled her bosom ! The buck stood lordly 
erect, facing the east, as if he would do 
homage to, or receive homage from, the rising 
sun, whose yellow beams fell full upon his 
uplifted front. The thought of her mind, the 


52 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


fear of her heart, were plain. The buck 
would soon move ; when he moved, which 
way would he move? Would he go from 
or come toward her? Would she get him, or 
would she lose him ? Oh, the agony of that 
thought ! 

“ God of the starving,” burst from her quiv- 
ering lips, “ let not my children die ! ” 

Many prayers more ornate rose that day to 
Him whose ears are open to all cries. But 
of all that prayed on that Christmas morn, 
whether with few words or many, surely, no 
heart rose with the seeking words more ear- 
nestly than the poor woman kneeling as she 
prayed, rifle in hand, amid the snow. 

“ God of the starving, let not my children 
die ! ” 

That was her prayer ; and, as if in answer 
to her agonizing petition, the buck turned and 
began to advance directly toward her, brows- 
ing as he came. Once he stopped, looked 
around, and snuffed the air suspiciously. Had 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


53 


he scented her presence, and would he bound 
away ? Should she fire now ? No ; her judg- 
ment told her she could not trust the gun 
or her aim at such a range. He must come 
niglier, — come even to the big maple, and 
stand there, not ten rods away ; then she 

felt sure she should get him. So she waited. 
Oh, how the cold ate into her ! How her 

teeth chattered as the chills ran their tortur- 
ing courses through her thin, shivering frame ! 
But still she clutched the cold barrel, and 

still she watched and waited, and still she 

prayed, — 

u God of the starving, let not my children 
die ! ” 

Alas, poor woman ! My own body shivers 
as I think of thine, and my pen falters to 
write what misery befell thee on that wretched 
morn. 

Did the buck turn ? Did he, having come 
so tantalizingly near, retrace his steps? No. 
He continued to advance. Had Heaven heard 


54 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


her prayer ? Her soul answered it had ; and 
with such feelings in it toward Him to whom 
she had appealed as she had not felt in all 
her life before, she steadied herself for the 
shot. For even as she prayed, the deer came 
on, — came to the big maple, and lifted his 
muzzle to its highest reach to seize with his 
tongue a thin streamer of moss that lay 
against the smooth bark. There he stood, 
his blue-brown side full toward her, uncon- 
scious of her presence. Noiselessly she cocked 
the piece. Noiselessly she raised it to her 
face, and with every nerve drawn to its 
tightest tension, sighted the noble game, and 
— fired. 

Had the frosty air watered her eye ? was it 
a tear of joy and gratitude that dimmed the 
clearness of its sight ? or were the half-frozen 
fingers unable to steady the cold barrel at the 
instant of its explosion? We know not. We 
only know that in spite of prayer, in spite 
of noblest effort, she missed the game. For, 



















































» 















































































JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


55 


as the rifle cracked, the buck gave a snort 
of fear, and with swift bounds flew up the 
mountain ; while the poor woman, dropping 
the gun with a groan, fell fainting on the 


snow. 


56 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


III. 

At the same moment the rifle sounded, two 
men, the Trapper with his pack, and Wild Bill 
with his sled heavily loaded, were descending 
the western slope of the mountain, not a mile 
from the clearing in which stood the lonely 
cabin. The sound of the piece brought them 
to a halt as quickly as if the bullet had cut 
through the air in front of their faces. For 
several minutes both stood in the attitude of 
listening. 

“ Down into the snow with ye, pups ! ” ex- 
claimed the Trapper, in a hoarse whisper. 
“ Down into the snow with ye, I say ! Rover, 
ef ye lift yer muzzle agin, I’ll warm yer back 
with the ramrod. By the Lord, Bill, the buck 
is cornin’ this way ; ye can see his horns lift 
above the leetle balsams as he breaks through 





ifi 


sps 


. 




■wl 

^sSiCSSS: 










JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


57 


the thicket yender. Ef he strikes the runway, 
he’ll sartinly come within range ; ” and the old 
Trapper slipped his arms from the pack, and, 
lowering it to the earth, sank on his knees be- 
side it, w T here he waited as motionless as if the 
breath had departed his body. 

Onward came the game. As the Trapper 
had suggested, the buck, with mighty and far- 
reaching bounds, cleared the shrubby obstruc- 
tions, and, entering the runway, tore up the 
familiar path with the violence of a tornado. 
Onward he came, his head flung upward, his 
antlers laid well back, tongue lolling from his 
mouth, and his nostrils smoking with the hot 
breaths that burst in streaming columns from 
them. Not until his swift career had brought 
him exactly in front of his position did the old 
man stir a muscle. But then, quick as the 
motion of the leaping game, his rifle jumped to 
his cheek, and even as the buck was at the cen- 
tral point of his leap, and suspended in the air, 
the piece cracked sharp and clear, and the deer, 


58 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


stricken to his death, fell with a crash to the 
ground. The quivering hounds rose to their 
feet, and bayed long and deep ; Wild Bill swung 
his hat and yelled ; and for a moment the woods 
rang with the wild cries of dogs and man. 

44 Lord-a-massy, Bill, what a mouth ye have 
when ye open it ! ” exclaimed the Trapper, as 
he leisurely poured the powder into the still 
smoking barrel. 44 Atween ye and the pups, 
it’s enough to drive a man crazy. I should 
sartinly think ye had never seed a deer shot 
afore, by the way ye be actin’.” 

44 I’ve seen a good many, as you know, John 
Norton ; but I never saw one tumbled over by a 
single bullet when at the very top of his jump, 
as that one was. I surely thought you had 
waited too long, and I wouldn’t have given a 
cent for your chances when you pulled. It was 
a wonderful shot, John Norton, and I would 
take just such another tramp as I have had, to 
see you do it again, old man.” 

44 It wasn’t bad,” returned the Trapper; 44 no, 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 59 

* 

it sartinly wasn’t bad, fur he was goin’ as ef 
the Old Harry was arter him. I shouldn’t 
wonder ef he had felt the tech of lead down 
there in the holler, and the smart of his hurt 
kept him flyin’. Let’s go and look him over, 
and see ef we can’t find the markin’s of the 
bullit on him.” 

In a moment the two stood above the dead 
deer. 

“ It is as I thought,” said the Trapper, as he 
pointed with his ramrod to a stain of blood on 
one of the hams of the buck. “ The bullit 
drove through his thigh here, but it didn’t tech 
the bone, and was a sheer waste of lead, fur 
it only sot him goin’ like an arrer. Bill, I 
sartinly doubt,” continued the old man, as he 
measured the noble animal with his eye, “ I 
sartinly doubt ef I ever seed a bigger deer. 
There’s seven prongs on his horns, and I’d bet 
a horn of powder agin a chargerful that he’d 
weigh three hundred pounds as he lies. Lord, 
what a Christmas gift he’ll be fur the woman ! 


60 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


The skin will make a blanket fit fur a queen 
to sleep under, and the meat, jediciously cared 
for, will last her all winter. We must manage 
to git it to the edge of the clearin’, anyhow, or 
the wolves might make free with our venison. 
Bill. Yer sled is a strong un, and it’ll bear 
the loadin’, ef ye go keerful.” 

The Trapper and his companion set them- 
selves to their task with the energy of men 
accustomed to surmount every obstacle, and in 
a short half-hour the sled, with its double load- 
ing, stopped at the door of the lonely cabin. 

“ I don’t understand this, Wild Bill,” said the 
Trapper. “ Here be a woman’s tracks in the 
snow, and the door be left a leetle ajar, but 
there be no smoke in the chimney, and they 
sartinly ain’t very noisy inside. I’ll jest give 
a knock or two, and see ef they be stirrin’ ; ” 
and, suiting the action to the word, he knocked 
long and loud on the large door. But to his 
noisy summons there came no response, and 
without a moment of farther hesitation he 
shoved open the door, and entered. 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


61 


“ God of marcy ! Wild Bill,” exclaimed the 
Trapper, “look in here! ” 

A huge room dimly lighted, holes in the roof, 
here and there a heap of snow on the floor, an 
immense fireplace with no fire in it, and a group 
of scared, wild-looking children huddled together 
in the farther corner, like young and timid 
animals that had fled in affright from the nest 
where they had slept, at some fearful intrusion. 
That is what the Trapper saw. 

. “ I ” — Whatever Wild Bill was about to 
say, his astonishment, and we may add his 
pity, were too profound for him to complete 
his ejaculation. 

“ Don’t ye be afeerd, leetle uns,” said the 
Trapper, as he advanced into the centre of 
the room to more fully survey the wretched 
place. “ This be Christmas morn, and me and 
Wild Bill and the pups have come over the 
mountain to wish ye all a merry Christmas. 
But where be yer mother ? ” queried the old 
man, as he looked kindly at the startled group. 


62 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


“We don’t know where she is,” answered 
the older of the two girls ; “ we thought she 
was in bed with us, till you woke us. We 
don’t know where she has gone.” 

“ I have it, I have it, Wild Bill ! ” exclaimed 
the Trapper, whose eyes had been busy scan- 
ning the place while talking with the children. 
“ The rifle be gone from the hangings, and 
the tracks in the snow be hern. Yis, yis, 1 
see it all. She went out in hope of gittin’ 
the leetle uns here somethin’ to eat, and that 
was her rifle we heerd, and her bullet made 
that hole in the ham of the buck. What a 
disapp’intment to the poor creetur when she 
seed she hadn’t hit him ! Her heart eena’most 
broke, I dare say. But the Lord was in it — 
leastwise, he didn’t go ag’in the proper shapin’ 
of things arterwards. Come, Bill, let’s stir 
round" lively, and get the shanty in shape a 
leetle, and some vict’als on the table afore 
she comes. Yis, git out yer axe, and slash 
into that dead beech at the corner of the 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


63 


cabin, while I sorter clean up inside. A fire 
is the fust thing on sech a mornin’ as this ; 
so scurry round, Bill, and bring in the wood 
as ef ye was a good deal in ’arnest, and do 
ye cut to the measure of the fireplace, and 
don’t waste yer time in shortenin’ it, fur the 
longer the fireplace, the longer the wood ; 
that is, ef ye want to make it a heater.” 

His companion obeyed with alacrity ; and 
by the time the Trapper had cleaned out the 
snow, and swept down the soot from the 
sides of the fireplace, and put things partially 
to rights, Bill had stacked the dry logs into 
the huge opening, nearly to the upper jamb, 
and, with the help of some large sheets of 
birch-bark, kindled them to a flame. “ Come 
here, leetle uns,” said the Trapper, as he 
turned his good-natured face toward the chil- 
dren, — “ come here, and put yer leetle feet 
on the h’arthstun, fur it’s warmin’, and I con- 
ceit yer toes be about freezin’.” 

It was not in the power of children to with- 


64 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


stand the attraction of such an invitation, 
extended with such a hearty voice and such 
benevolence of feature. The children came 
promptly forward, and stood in a row on the 
great stone, and warmed their little shivering 
bodies by the abundant flames. 

“ Now, leetle folks,” said the Trapper, “ jest 
git yerselves well warmed, then git on what 
clothes ye’ve got, and we’ll have some break- 
fast, — yis, we’ll have breakfast ready by the 
time yer mother gits back, fur I know where 
she be gone, and she’ll be hungry and cold 
when she gits in. I don’t conceit that this 
little chap here can help much, but ye girls 
be big enough to help a good deal. So, when 
ye be warm, do ye put away the bed to the 
furderest corner, and shove out the table in 
front of the fire, and put on the dishes, 
sech as ye have, and be smart about it, 
too, fur yer mother will sartinly be cornin’ 
soon, and we must be ahead of her with the 
cookin’.” 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


65 


What a change the next half-hour made 
in the appearance of the cabin ! The huge 
fire sent its heat to the farthest corner of 
the great room. The miserable bed had been 
removed out of sight, and the table, drawn 
up in front of the fire, was set with the 
needed dishes. On the hearthstone a large 
platter of venison steak, broiled by the Trap^ 
per’s skill, simmered in the heat. A mighty 
pile of cakes, brown to a turn, flanked one 
side, while a stack of potatoes baked in the 
ashes supported the other. The teapot sent 
forth its refreshing odor through the room. 
The children, with their faces washed and 
hair partially, at least, combed, ran about 
with bare feet on the warm floor, comfortable 
and happy. To them it was as a beautiful 
dream. The breakfast was ready, and the 
visitors sat waiting for the coming of her to 
whose assistance the angel of Christmas Eve 
had sent them. 

“ Sh ! ” whispered the Trapper, whose quick 


66 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


ear had caught the sound of a dragging step 
in the snow. “ She’s coinin’ ! ” 

Too weary and faint, too sick at heart and 
exhausted in body to observe the unaccus- 
tomed signs of human presence around her 
dwelling, the poor woman dragged herself to 
the door, and opened it. The gun she still 
held in her hand fell rattling to the floor, 
and, with eyes wildly opened, she gazed bewil- 
dered at the spectacle. The blazing fire, the 
set table, the food on the hearthstone, the 
smiling children, the two men ! She passed 
her hands across her eyes as one waking from 
sleep. Was she dreaming? Was this cabin 
the miserable hut she had left at daybreak ? 
Was that the same fireplace in front of whose 
cold and cheerless recess she had crouched the 
night before ? And were those two strangers 
there men, or were they angels? Was what 
she saw real, or was it only a fevered vision 
born of her weakness ? 

Her senses actually reeled to and fro, and she 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


67 


trembled for a moment on the verge of uncon- 
sciousness. Indeed, the shock was so over- 
whelming that in another instant she would 
have swooned and fallen to the floor had not 
the growing faintness been checked by the 
sound of a human voice. 

A merry Christmas to ye, my good woman,” 
said the Trapper. u A merry Christmas to ye 
and yourn ! ” 

The woman started as the hearty tones fell 
on her ear, and, steadying herself by the . door, 
she said, speaking as one partially dazed, — 

“ Are you John Norton the Trapper, or are 
you an ang — ” 

“ Ye needn’t sight agin,” interrupted the old 
man. “ Yis, I’m old John Norton himself, 
nothin’ better and nothin’ wuss; and the man 
in the chair here by my side is Wild Bill, and 
ye couldn’t make an angel out of him, ef ye 
tried from now till next Christmas. Yis, my 
good woman, I’m John Norton, and this is 
Wild Bill, and we’ve come over the mountain 


68 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


to wish ye a merry Christmas, ye and yer leetle 
uns, and help ye keep the day ; and, ye see, 
we’ve been stirrin’ a leetle in yer absence, and 
breakfast be waitin’. Wild Bill and me will 
jest go out and cut a leetle more wood, while 
ye warm and wash yerself ; and when ye be 
ready to eat, ye may call us, and we’ll see 
which can git into the house fust.” 

So saying, the Trapper, followed by his com- 
panion, passed out of the door, while the poor 
woman, without a word, moved toward the fire, 
and, casting one look at her children, at the 
table, at the food on the hearthstone, dropped 
on her knees by a chair, and buried her face in 
her hands. 

“I say,” said Wild Bill to the Trapper, as 
he crept softly away from the door, to which 
he had returned to shut it more closely, “ I say, 
John Norton, the woman is on her knees by a 
chair.” 

“ Very likely, very likely,” returned the old 
man reverently ; and then he began to chop 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


69 


vigorously at a huge log, with his back toward 
his comrade. 

Perhaps some of you who read this tale will 
come some time, when weary and heart-sick, to 
something drearier than an empty house, some 
bleak, cold day, some lonely morn, and with a 
starving heart and benumbed soul, — ay, and 
empty-handed, too, — enter in only to find it 
swept and garnished, and what you most 
needjed and longed for waiting for you. Then 
will you, too, drop upon your knees, and cover 
your face with your hands, ashamed that you 
had murmured against the hardness of your lot, 
or forgotten the goodness of Him who suffered 
you to be tried only that you might more fully 
appreciate the triumph. 

“ My good woman,” said the Trapper, when 
the breakfast was eaten, “ we’ve come, as we 
said, to. spend the day with you ; and accordin’ 
to custom — and a pleasant un it be fur sartin 
— we’ve brought ye some presents. A good 
many of them come from him who called on 


70 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


ye as he and me passed through the lake last 
fall. I dare say ye remember him, and he sar- 
tinly has remembered ye. Fur last evenin’, 
when I was makin’ up a leetle pack to bring 
ye myself, — fur I conceited I had better come 
over and spend the day with ye, — Wild Bill 
came to my door with a box on his sled that 
the boy had sent in from his home in the city ; 
and in the box he had put a great many pres- 
ents fur him and me ; and in the lower half of 
the box he had put a good many presents fur 
ye and yer leetle uns, and we’ve brought them 
all over with us. Some of the things be fur 
eatin’ and some of them be fur wearin’ ; and 
that there may be no misunderstanding I would 
say that all the things that be in the pack- 
basket there, and all the things that be on the 
sled, too, belong to ye. And as I see the wood- 
pile isn’t a very big un fur this time of the 
year, Bill and me be goin’ out to settle our 
breakfast a leetle with the axes. And while 
we be gone, I conceit ye had better rummage 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


71 


the things over, and them that be good fur 
eatin’ ye had better put in the cupboard, and 
them that be good fur wearin’ ye had better 
put on yerself and yer leetle uns ; and then 
we’ll all be ready to make a fair start. Fur 
this be Christmas Day, and we be goin’ to 
keep it as it orter be kept. Ef we’ve had 
sorrers, we’ll forgit ’em ; and we’ll laugh, and 
eat, and be merry. Fur this be Christmas, my 
good woman ! children, this be Christmas ! Wild 
Bill, my boy, this be Christmas ; and pups, this 
be Christmas ! And we’ll all laugh, and eat, 
and be merry.” 

The joyfulness of the old man was contagious. 
His happiness flowed over as waters flow over 
the rim of a fountain. Wild Bill laughed as 
he seized his axe, the woman rose from the 
table smiling, the girls giggled, the little boy 
stamped, and the hounds, catching the spirit of 
their merry master, swung their tails round, 
and bayed in canine gladness ; and amid the 
joyful uproar the old Trapper spun himself out 


72 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


of the door, and chased Wild Bill through the 
snow like a boy. 

The dinner was to be served at two o’clock ; 
and what a dinner it was, and what prepara- 
tions preceded ! The snow had been shovelled 
from around the cabin, the holes in the 
roof roughly but effectually thatched. A good 
pile of wood was stacked in front of the door- 
way. The spring that bubbled from the bank 
had been cleared of ice, and a protection con- 
structed over it. The huge buck had been 
dressed, and hung high above the reach of 
wolves. Cedar and balsam branches had been 
placed in the corners and along the sides of 
the room. Great sprays of the tasselled pine 
and the feathery tamarack were suspended 
from the ceiling. The table had been en- 
larged, and extra seats extemporized. The 
long-unused oven had been cleaned out, and 
under its vast dome the red flames flashed 
and rolled upward. What a change a few 
hours had brought to that lonely cabin and 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


73 


its wretched inmates! The woman, dressed 
in her new garments, her hair smoothly 
combed, her face lighted with smiles, looked 
positively comely. The girls, happy in their 
Tne clothes and marvellous toys, danced round 
the room, wild with delight ; while the little 
boy strutted about the floor in his new boots, 
proudly showing them to each person for the 
hundredth time. 

The hostess’s attention was equally divided 
between the temperature of the oven and the 
adornment of the table. A snow-white sheet, 
one of a dozen she had found in the box, was 
drafted peremptorily into service, and did duty 
as a tablecloth. Oh, the innocent and funny 
make-shifts of poverty, and the goodly distance 
it can make a little go ! Perhaps some of us, 
as we stand in our rich dining-rooms, and 
gaze with pride at the silver, the gold, the 
cut-glass, and the transparent china, can recall 
a little kitchen in a homely house far away, 
where our good mothers once set their tables 


74 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


for their guests, and what a brave show the 
few extra dishes made when they brought 
them out on the rare festive days ! 

However it might strike you, fair reader, 
to the poor woman and her guests there was 
nothing incongruous in a sheet serving as a 
tablecloth. Was it not white and clean and 
properly shaped, and would it not have been 
a tablecloth if it hadn’t been a sheet ? How 
very nice and particular some people can be 
over the trifling matter of a name! And this, 
sheet had no right to be a sheet ; for any 
one with half an eye could see at a glance 
that it was predestined from the first to be 
a tablecloth, for it sat as smoothly on the 
wooden surface as pious looks on a deacon’s 
face, while the easy and nonchalant w^y it 
draped itself at the corners was perfectly 
jaunty. 

The edges of this square of white sheeting 
that had thus providentially found its true 
and predestined use were ornamented with the 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


75 


leaves of the wild myrtle, stitched on in the 
form of scallops. In the centre, with a brave 
show of artistic skill, were the words, “ Merry 
Christmas,” prettily worked with the small 
brown cones of the pines. This, the joint prod- 
uct of Wild Bill’s industry and the woman’s 
taste, commanded the enthusiastic admiration 
of all ; and even the little boy, from the height 
of a chair into which he had climbed, was 
profoundly affected by the show it made. 

The Trapper had charge of the meat depart- 
ment, and it is safe to say that no Delmonico 
could undertake to serve venison in greater 
variety than did he. To him it was a grand 
occasion, and — in a culinary sense — he rose 
grandly to meet it. What bosom is without 
its little vanities ? and shall we laugh at the 
dear old man because he looked upon the 
opportunity before him with feeling other 
than pure benevolence, — even of complacency 
that what he was doing was being done as 
no one else could do it ? 


76 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


There was venison roasted, and venison 
broiled, and venison fried ; there was hashed 
venison, and venison spitted ; there was a 
side-dish of venison sausage, strong with the 
odor of sage, and slightly dashed with wild 
thyme ; and a huge kettle of soup, on whose 
rich creamy surface pieces of bread and here 
and there a slice of potato floated. 

“ I tell ye, Bill,” said the Trapper to his 
companion, as he stirred the soup with a 
long ladle, “ this pot isn’t actilly runnin’ over 
with taters, but ye can see a bit occasionally 
ef ye look sharp and keep the ladle goin’ 
round pretty lively. No, the taters ain’t over- 
plenty,” continued the old man, peering into 
the pot, and sinking his voice to a whisper, 
“but there wasn’t but fifteen in the bag, 
and the woman took twelve of ’em fur her 
kittle, and ye can’t make three taters look 
actilly crowded in two gallons of soup, can 
ye, Bill ? ” And the old man punched that 
personage in the ribs with the thumb of the 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


77 


hand that was free from service, while he 
kept the ladle going with the other. 

“ Lord ! ” exclaimed the Trapper, speaking 
to Bill, who, having taken a look into the 
old man’s kettle, was digging his knuckles 
into his eyes to free them from the spray 
that was jetted into them from the fountains 
of mirth within that were now in full play, 
— “ Lord ! ef there isn’t another piece of 
tater gone all to pieces ! Bill, ef I make 
another circle with this ladle, there won’t be 
a whole slice left, and ye’ll swear there 
wasn’t a tater in the soup.” And the two 
men, with their faces within twenty inches, 
laughed and laughed like boys. 

How sweet it is to think that when the Maker 
set up this strange instrument we call ourselves, 
and strung it for service, he selected of the 
heavy chords so few, and of the lighter ones 
so many ! Some muffled ones there are ; some 
slow and solemn sounds swell sadly forth at 
intervals, but blessed be God that we are so 


78 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


easily tickled, and the world is so funny that 
within it, even when exiled from home and 
friends, we find, as the days come and go, the 
causes and occasions of hilarity ! 

Wild Bill had been placed in charge of the 
liquids. What a satire there is in circum- 
stances, and how those of to-day laugh at those 
of yesterday ! Yes, Wild Bill had charge of the 
liquids, — no mean charge, when the occasion 
is considered. Nor was the position without its 
embarrassments, as few honorable positions are, 
for it brought him face to face with the problem 
of the day — dishes ; for, between the two cooks 
of the occasion, every dish in the cabin had been 
brought into requisition, and poor Bill was left 
in the predicament of having to make tea and 
coffee with no pots to make them in. 

But Bill was not lacking in wit, if he was in 
pots, and he solved the conundrum how to make 
tea without a teapot in a manner that extorted 
the woman’s laughter, and commanded the old 
Trapper’s admiration. 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


79 


In ransacking the lofts above the apartment, 
he had lighted on several large, stone jugs, 
which, with the courage — shall we call it the 
audacity ? — of genius, he had seized upon ; and, 
having thoroughly rinsed them, and freed them 
from certain odors, — which we are free to say 
Bill was more or less familiar with, — he brought 
them forward as substitutes for kettle and pot. 
Indeed, they worked admirably, for in them 
the berry and the leaves might not only be 
properly steeped, but the flavor could be re- 
tained beyond what it might in many of our 
famous and high-sounding patented articles. 

But Bill, while ingenious and courageous to 
the last degree, was lacking in education, espe- 
cially in scientific directions. He had never been 
made acquainted with that great promoter of 
modern civilization — the expansive properties 
of steam. The corks he had whittled out for 
his bravely extemporized tea and coffee pots 
were of the closest fit; and, as they had been 
inserted with the energy of a man who, having 


80 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


conquered a serious difficulty, is determined to 
reap the full benefit of his triumph, there was 
at least no danger that the flavor of the con- 
coctions would escape through any leakage at 
the muzzle. Having thus prepared them for 
steeping, he placed the jugs in his corner of the 
fireplace, and pushed them well up through the 
ashes to the live coals. 

“ Wild Bill,” said the Trapper, who wished to 
give his companion the needed warning in as 
delicate and easy a manner as possible, “Wild 
Bill, ye have sartinly got the right idee techin’ 
the makin’ of tea and coffee, fur the yarb should 
be steeped, and the berry too, — leastwise, arter 
it’s biled up once or twice, — and therefore it 
be only reasonable that the nozzles should be 
closed moderately tight ; but a man wants con- 
siderable experience in the business, or lie’s 
likely to overdo it jest a leetle, and ef ye don’t 
cut some slots in them wooden corks ye’ve 
driven into them nozzles, Bill, there’ll be a 
good deal of tea and coffee floatin’ round in 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


81 


your corner of the fireplace afore many minutes, 
and I conceit there’ll be a man about your size 
lookin’ for a couple of corks and pieces of jugs 
out there in the clearin’, too.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” answered Bill incredu- 
lously. “ Don’t you be scared, old man, but 
keep on stirring your soup and turning the 
meat, and I’ll keep my eye on the bottles.” 

“ That’s right, Bill,” returned the Trapper; 
“ye keep yer eye right on ’em, specially on 
that un that’s furderest in toward the butt of 
the beech log there ; fur ef there’s any vartue 
in signs, that jug be gittin’ oneasy. Yis,” con- 
tinued the old man, after a minute’s pause, 
during which his eye hadn’t left the jug, “yis, 
that jug will want more room afore many min- 
utes, ef I’m any jedge, and I conceit I had better 
give it the biggest part of the fireplace ; ” and 
the Trapper hastily moved the soup and his 
half-dozen plates of cooked meats to the other 
end of the hearthstone, whither he retired him- 
self, like one who, feeling that he is called upon 


82 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


to contend with unknown forces, wisely beats a 
retreat. He even put himself behind a stack 
of wood that lay piled up in his corner, like one 
who does not despise, in a sudden emergency, 
an artificial protection. 

“ Bill,” called the Trapper, “ edge round a 
leetle, — edge round, and git in closer to the 
jamb. It’s sheer foolishness standin’ where ye 
be, fur the water will be wallopin’ in a minit, 
and ef the corks be swelled in the nozzle, there’ll 
be an explosion. Git in toward the jamb, and 
watch the ambushment under kiver.” 

“ Old man,” answered Bill, as he turned his 
back carelessly toward the fireplace, “ I’ve got 
the bearin’ s of this trail, and know what I’m 
about. The jugs are as strong as iron kittles, 
and I ain’t afraid of their bust” — 

Bill never finished the sentence, for the 
explosion predicted by the Trapper occurred. 
It was a tremendous one, and the huge fire- 
place was filled with flying brands, ashes, and 
clouds of steam. The Trapper ducked his head, 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


83 


the woman screamed, and the hounds rushed 
howling to the farthest end of the room ; while 
Bill, with half a somersault, disappeared under 
the table. 

“ Hurrah ! ” shouted the Trapper, lifting his 
head from behind the wood, and critically sur- 
veying the scene. “ Hurrah, Bill ! ” he shouted, 
as he swung the ladle over his head. “ Come 
out from under the table, and man yer battery 
agin. Yer old mortars was loaded to the muz- 
zle, and ef ye had depressed the pieces a leetle, 
ye’d ’a’ blowed the cabin to splinters ; as it was, 
the chimney got the biggest part of the char- 
gin’, and ye’ll find yer rammers on the other 
side of the mountain.” 

It was, in truth, a scene of uproarious hilar- 
ity ; for once the explosion was ovef, and the 
woman and children saw there was no danger, 
and apprehended the character of the perform- 
ance, they joined unrestrainedly in the Trap- 
per’s laughter, in which they were assisted by 
Wild Bill, as if he were not the victim of his 
own over-confidence. 


84 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


“ T say, old Trapper,” he called from under 
the table, “ did both guns go off ? I was git- 
ting under cover when the battery opened, and 
didn’t notice whether the firing was in sections 
or along the whole line. If there’s a piece left, 
I think I will stay where I am ; for I am in a 
good position to observe the range, and watch 
the effect of the shot. I say, hadn’t you better 
get behind the wood-pile again?” 

“ No, no,” interrupted the Trapper; “ the 
whole battery went at the word, Bill, and there 
isn’t a gun or a gun-carriage left in the case- 
ment. Ye’ve wasted a gill of the yarb, and a 
quarter of a pound of the berry ; and ye must 
hurry up with another outfit of bottles, or we’ll 
have nothin’ but water to drink at the dinner.” 

The dinner ! That great event of the day, 
the crown and diadem to its royalty, and which 
became it so well, was ready promptly to the 
hour. The table, enlarged as it was to nearly 
double its original dimensions, could scarcely 
accommodate the abundance of the feast. Ah, 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


85 


if some sweet power would only enlarge our 
hearts when, on festive days, we enlarge our 
tables, how many of the world’s poor, that 
now go hungry while we feast, would then be 
fed! 

At one end of the table sat the Trapper, Wild 
Bill at the other. The woman’s chair was at 
the centre of one of the sides, so that she sat 
facing the fire, whose generous flames might 
well symbolize the abundance which amid cold 
and hunger had so suddenly come to her. On 
her right hand the two girls sat ; on her left, 
the boy. A goodly table, a goodly fire, and a 
goodly company, — what more could the Angel 
of Christmas ask to see ? 

Thus were they seated, ready to begin the 
repast ; but the plates remained untouched, and 
the happy noises which had to that moment 
filled the cabin ceased ; for the Angel of 
Silence, with noiseless step, had suddenly en- 
tered the room. There’s a silence of grief, 
there’s a silence of hatred, there’s a silence of 


86 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


dread ; of these, men may speak, and these 
they can describe. But the silence of our hap- 
piness, who can describe that ? When the 
heart is full, when the long longing is suddenly 
met, when love gives to love abundantly, when 
the soul lacketh nothing and is content, — then 
language is useless, and the Angel of Silence 
becomes our only adequate interpreter. A 
humble table, surely, and humble folk around 
it ; but not in the houses of the rich or the 
palaces of kings does gratitude find her only 
home, but in more lowly abodes and with lowly 
folk — ay, and often at the scant table, too — 
she sitteth a perpetual guest. Was it memory ? 
Did the Trapper at that brief moment visit his 
absent friend ? Did Wild Bill recall his way- 
ward past ? Were the thoughts of the woman 
busy with sweet scenes of earlier days ? And 
did memory, by thus reminding them of the 
absent and the past, of the sweet things that 
had been and were, stir within their hearts 
thoughts of Him from whom all gifts descend, 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


87 


and of His blessed Son, in whose honor the day 
was named ? 

0 memory ! thou tuneful bell that ringeth 
on forever, friend at our feasts, and friend, too, 
let us call thee, at our burial, what music can 
equal thine ? For in thy mystic globe all tunes 
abide, — the birthday note for kings, the mar- 
riage peal, the funeral knell, the gleeful jingle 
of merry mirth, and those sweet chimes that 
float our thoughts, like fragrant ships upon a 
fragrant sea, toward heaven, — all are thine ! 
Ring on, thou tuneful bell ; ring on, while these 
glad ears may drink thy melody ; and when 
thy chimes are heard by me no more, ring loud 
and clear above my grave that peal which 
echoes to the heavens, and tells the world of 
immortality, that they who come to mourn 
may check their tears, and say, “ Why do we 
weep ? He liveth still ! ” 

“ The Lord be praised fur his goodness ! ” 
said the Trapper, whose thoughts unconsciously 
broke into speech. “ The Lord be praised fur 


88 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


his goodness, and make us grateful fur his 
past marcies, and the plenty that be here ! ” 
And looking down upon the viands spread 
before him, he added, u The Lord be good to 
the boy, and make him as happy in his city 
home as be they who be wearin’ and eatin’ 
his gifts in the woods ! ” 

“ Amen ! ” said the woman softly, and a 
grateful tear fell on her plate. 

“ A — hem ! ” said Wild Bill ; and then look- 
ing down upon his warm suit, he lifted his 
voice, and bringing it out in a clear, strong 
tone, said, “ Amen ! hit or miss ! ” 

At many a table that day more formal 
grace was said, by priest and layman alike, 
and at many a table, by lips of old and 
young, response was given to the benediction ; 
but we doubt if over all the earth a more 
honest grace was said or assented to than 
the Lord heard from the cabin in the woods. 

The feast and the merry-making now began. 
The old Trapper was in his best mood, and 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


89 


fairly bubbled over with humor. The wit of 
Wild Bill , was naturally keen, and it flashed 
at its best as he ate. The children stuffed 
and laughed as only children on such an 
elastic occasion can. And as for the poor 
woman, it was impossible for her, in the 
midst of such a scene, to be otherwise than 
happy, and she joined modestly in the con- 
versation, and laughed heartily at the witty 
sallies. 

But why should we strive to put on paper 
the wise, the funny, and the pleasant things 
that were said, the exclamations, the laughter, 
the story, the joke, the verbal thrust and 
parry of such an occasion ? These, springing 
from the centre of the circumstance, and 
flashed into being at the instant, cannot be 
preserved for after-rehearsal. Like the effer- 
vescence of champagne, they jet and are gone ; 
their force passes away with the noise that 
accompanied its out-coming. 

Is it not enough to record that the dinner 


90 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


was a success, that the Trapper s meats were 
put upon the table in a manner worthy of 
his reputation, that the woman’s efforts at 
pastry-making were generously applauded, and 
that Wild Bill’s tea and coffee were pronounced 
by the hostess the best she had ever tasted? 
Perhaps no meal was ever more enjoyed, as 
certainly none was ever more heartily eaten. 

The wonder and pride of the table was the 
pudding, — a creation of Indian-meal, flour, 
suet, and raisins, re-enforced and assisted by 
innumerable spicy elements supposed to be too 
mysterious to be grasped by the masculine 
mind. In the production of this wonderful 
centre-piece, — for it had been unanimously 
voted the place of honor, — the poor woman 
had summoned all the latent resources of her 
skill, and in reference to it her pride and fear 
contended, while the anxiety with which she 
rose to serve it was only too plainly depicted 
on her countenance, What if it should prove 
a failure ? What if she had made a miscal- 






JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


91 


dilation as to the amount of suet required, — 
a point upon which she had been somewhat 
confused ? What if the raisins were not suf- 
ficiently distributed ? What if it wasn’t done 
through, and should turn out pasty ? Great 
heavens ! The last thought was of so over- 
whelming a character that no feminine courage 
could encounter it. Who may describe the 
look with which she watched the Trapper as 
he tasted it, or the expression of relief which 
brightened her anxious face when he pro- 
nounced warmly in its favor ? 

“ It’s a wonderful bit of cookin’,” he said, 
addressing himself to Wild Bill, “and' I sar- 
tinly doubt ef there be anything in the set- 
tlements to-day that can equal it. There be 
jest enough of the suet, and there be a plum 
fur every mouthful ; and it be solid enough 
to stay in the mouth ontil ye’ve had time to 
chew it, and git a taste of the corn, — and 
I wouldn’t give a cent for a puddin’ ef it 
gits away from yer teeth fast. Yis, it be a 


92 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


wonderful bit of cookinV’ and, turning to the 
woman, he added, “ye may well be proud of 
it.” 

What higher praise could be bestowed ? 
And as it was re-echoed by all present, and 
plate after plate was passed for a second 
filling, the dinner came to an end with the 
greatest good feeling and hilarity. 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


93 


IV. 

“ Now fur the sled ! ” exclaimed the Trapper, 
as he rose from the table. “ It be a good many 
years since I’ve straddled one, but nothin’ settles 
a dinner quicker, or suits the leetle folks better. 
I conceit the crust be thick enough to bear us 
up, and, ef it is, we can fetch a course from the 
upper edge of the clearin’ fifty rods into the 
lake. Come, childun, git on yer mittens and 
yer tippets, and h’ist along to the big pine, and 
ye shall have some fun ye won’t forgit ontil yer 
heads be whiter than mine.” 

It is needless to record that the children 
hailed with delight the proposition of the Trap- 
per, or that they were at the appointed spot 
long before the speaker and his companion 
reached it with the sled. 

“Wild Bill,” said the Trapper, as they stood 


94 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


on the crest of the slope down which they were 
to glide, “ the crust be smooth as glass, and the 
hill be a steep un. I sartinly doubt ef mortal 
man ever rode faster than this sled’ll be goin’ 
by the time it gits to where the bank pitches 
into the lake ; and ef ye should git a leetle 
careless in yer steerin’, Bill, and hit a stump, I 
conceit that nothin’ but the help of the Lord or 
the rottenness of the stump would save ye from 
etarnity.” 

Now, Wild Bill was blessed with a sanguine 
temperament. To him no obstacle seemed seri- 
ous if bravely faced. Indeed, his natural con- 
fidence in himself bordered on recklessness, to 
which the drinking habits of his life had, per- 
haps, contributed. 

When the Trapper had finished speaking, Bill 
ran his eye carelessly down the steep hillside, 
smooth and shiny as polished steel, and said, 
“ Oh, this isn’t anything extry for a hill. I’ve 
steered a good many steeper ones, and in nights 
when the moon was at the half,* and the sled 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


95 


overloaded at that. It don’t make any differ- 
ence how fast you go,” he added, “if you only 
keep in the path, and don’t hit anything.” 

“ That’s it, that’s it,” replied the Trapper. 
“ But the trouble here be to keep in the path, 
fur, in the fust place, there isn’t any path, and 
the stumps be pretty thick, and I doubt ef ye 
can line a trail from here to the bank by the 
lake without one or more sudden twists in it, 
and a twist in the trail, goin’ as fast as we’ll 
be goin’, has got to be taken jediciously, or 
somethin’ will happen. I say, Bill, what p’int 
will ye steer fur ? ” 

Wild Bill, thus addressed, proceeded to give* 
his opinion touching the proper direction of the 
flight they were to make. Indeed, he had been 
closely examining the ground while the Trapper 
was speaking, and therefore gave his opinion 
promptly and with confidence. 

“ Ye have chosen the course with jedgment,” 
said the old man approvingly, after he had 
studied the line his companion pointed out 


96 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


critically for a moment. “ Yis, Bill, ye have a 
nateral eye for the business, and I sartinly have 
more confidence in ye than I had a minit ago, 
when ye was talkin’ about a steeper hill than 
this ; fur this hill drops mighty sudden in the 
pitches, and the crust be smooth as ice, and the 
sled’ll go like a streak when it gits started; 
But the course ye’ve p’inted out be a good un, 
fur there be only one bad turn in it, and good 
steerin’ orter put a sled round that. I say,” 
continued the old man, turning toward his 
companion, and pointing out the crook in the 
course at the bottom of the second dip, “ can 
ye swing around that big stump there without 
upsettin’ when ye come to it ? ” 

“ Swing around ? Of course I can,” retorted 
Wild Bill positively. “ There’s plenty room to 
the left, and ” — 

“ Ay, ay ; there be plenty of room, as ye say, 
ef ye don’t take too much of it,” interrupted 
the Trapper. “ But ” — 

“I tell you,” broke in the other, “I’ll turn 



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JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


97 


my back to no man in steering a sled ; and I can 
put this sled, and you on it, around that stump 
a hundred times, and never lift a runner.” 

“Well, well,” responded the Trapper, “have 
it your own way. I dare say ye be good at 
steerin’, and I sartinly know I’m good at ridin’ ; 
and I can ride as fast as ye can steer, ef ye hit 
every stump in the clearin’. Now, childun,” 
continued the old man, turning to the little 
group, “we be goin’ to try the course ; and ef 
the crust holds up, and Wild Bill keeps clear 
of the stumps, and nothin’ onusual happens, ye 
shall have all the slidin’ ye want afore ye go 
in. Come, Bill, git yer sled p’inted right, and 
I’ll be gittin’ on, and we’ll see ef ye can steer 
an old man round a stump as handily as ye say 
ye can.” 

The directions of the Trapper were promptly 
obeyed, and in an instant the sled was in a right 
position, and the Trapper proceeded to seat him- 
self with the carefulness of one who feels he is 
embarking on a somewhat uncertain venture, 


98 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


and has grave misgivings as to what will be the 
upshot of the undertaking. The sled was large 
and strongly built ; and it added not a little to 
his comfort to feel that he could put entire con- 
fidence in the structure beneath them. 

“The sled’ll hold,” he said to himself, “ ef 
the loadin’ goes to the jedgment.” 

The Trapper was no sooner seated than Wild 
Bill threw himself upon the sled, with one leg 
under him and the other stretched at full length 
behind. This was a method of steering that, 
had come into vogue since the Trapper’s boy- 
hood, for in his day the steersman sat astride 
the sled, with his feet thrust forward, and 
steered by the pressure of either heel upon the 
snow. 

“ Hold on, Bill ! ” exclaimed the Trapper, 
whose eye this novel method of steering had 
not escaped. “ Hold on, and hold up a minit. 
Heavens and ’arth ! ye don’t mean to steer this 
sled with one toe, do ye, and that, too, the 
length of a rifle-barrel astarn ? Wheel round, 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


99 


and spread yer legs out as ye orter, and steer 
this sled in an honest fashion, or there’ll be 
trouble aboard afore ye git to the bottom.” 

“ Sit round ! ” retorted Bill. “ How could I 
see to steer if I was sitting right back of you ? 
For you’re nigh a foot taller than I be, and your 
shoulders are as broad as the sled.” 

“ Yer p’ints be well taken, fur sartin,” re- 
plied the Trapper; u fur it be no more than 
reasonable that the man that steers should see 
where he be goin’, and I am anxious as ye be 
that ye should. Yis, I sartinly want ye to see 
where ye be goin’ on this trip, anyhow, fur 
the crew be a fresh un, and the channel be a 
leetle crooked. But be ye sartin, Bill, that ye 
can fetch round that stump there as it orter be 
did, with nothin’ but yer toe out behind ? It 
may be the best way, as ye say, but it don’t 
look like honest steerin’ to a man of my years.” 

“ I have used both ways,” answered Bill, 
“ and I give you my word, old man, that this 
is the best one. You can git a big swing with 


100 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


your foot stretched out in this fashion, and the 
sled feels the least pressure of the toe. Yes, 
it’s all right. John Norton, are you ready?” 

“ Yis, yis, as ready as I ever shall be,” an- 
swered the Trapper, in a voice in which doubt 
and resignation were equally mingled. “ It 
may be as ye say,” he continued ; “ but the 
rudder be too fur behind to suit me, and ef any- 
thing happens on this cruise, jest remember, 
Wild Bill, that my jedgment ” — 

The sentence the Trapper was uttering was 
abruptly cut short at this point ; for Bill had 
started the sled with a sudden push, and leaped 
to his seat behind the Trapper as it glided down- 
ward and away. In an instant the sled was 
under full headway, for the dip was a sharp 
one, and the crust smooth as ice. Scarce had 
it gone ten rods from the point where it started 
before it was in full flight, and was gliding 
downward with what would have been, to any 
but a man of the steadiest nerve, a frightful 
velocity. But the Trapper was of too cool and 


JOHN NORTON'S CHRISTMAS. 


101 


courageous temperament to be disturbed even 
by actual danger. Indeed, the swiftness of 
their downward career, as the sled with a buzz 
and a roar swept along over the resounding 
crust, stirred the old man’s blood with a tingle 
of excitement : while the splendid manner with 
which Wild Bill was keeping it to the course 
settled upon filled him with admiration, and 
was fast making him a convert to the new 
method of steering. 

Downward they flashed. The Trapper’s cap 
had been blown from his head ; and as the old 
man sat bolt-upright on his sled, his feet bravely 
planted on the round, his face flushed, and his 
white hair streaming, he looked the very pic- 
ture of hearty enjoyment. Above his head the 
face of Wild Bill looked actually sharpened by 
the pressure of the air on either cheek as it 
clove through it ; but his lips were bravely set, 
and his eyes were fastened without winking on 
the big stump ahead, toward which they were 
rushing. 


102 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


It was at this point that Wild Bill vindicated 
his ability as a steersman, and at the same time 
barely escaped shipwreck. At the proper mo- 
ment he swept his foot to the left, and the sled, 
in obedience to the pressure, swooped in that 
direction. But in his anxiety to give the stump 
a wide berth, Bill overdid the pressure that was 
needed a trifle ; for in calculating the curve re- 
quired he had failed to allow for the sidewise 
motion of the sled, and, instead of hitting one 
stump, it looked for an instant as if he would 
be precipitated among a dozen. 

“ Heave her starn up. Wild Bill ! up with 
her starn, I say,” yelled the Trapper, “or there 
won’t be a stump left in the clearin’.” 

With a quickness and courage that would 
have done credit to any steersman, — for the 
speed at which they were going was terrific, 
— Bill swept his foot to the right, leaning 
his body well over at the same instant. The 
Trapper instinctively seconded his endeavors, 
and with hands that gripped either side of 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


103 


the sled he hung over that side which was 
upon the point of going into the air. For 
several rods the sled glided along on a single 
runner, and then, righting itself with a lurch, 
jumped the summit of the last dip, and raced 
away, like a swallow in full flight, toward 
the lake. 

Now, at the edge of the clearing that 
bounded the shore was a bank of consider- 
able size. Shrubs and stunted bushes fringed 
the crest of it. These had been buried beneath 
the snow, and the crust had formed smoothly 
over them ; and as it was upheld by no 
stronger support than such as the hidden 
shrubbery furnished, it was incapable of sus- 
taining any considerable pressure. 

Certainly no sled w r as ever moving faster 
than was Wild Bill’s, when it came to this 
point ; and certainly no sled ever stopped 
quicker, for* the treacherous crust dropped 
suddenly under it, and the sled was left 
with nothing but the hind part of one of 


104 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


the runners sticking up in sight. But though 
the sled was suddenly checked in its career, 
the Trapper and Wild Bill continued their 
flight. The former slid from the sled without 
meeting any obstruction, and with the same 
velocity with which he had been moving. 
Indeed, so little was his position changed, 
that one almost might fancy that no accident 
had happened, and that the old man was 
gliding forward to the end of the course with 
an adequate structure under him. But with 
the latter it was far different ; for, as the sled 
stopped, he was projected sharply upward into 
the air, and, after turning several somersaults, 
he actually landed in front of the Trapper, 
and glided along on the slippery surface ahead 
of him. And so the two men shot onward, 
one after the other, while the children cackled 
from the hill-top, and the woman swung her 
bonnet over her head, and laughed from her 
position in the doorway. 

“Bill,” called the Trapper, when by dint of 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


105 


much effort they had managed to check their 
motion somewhat, 66 Bill, ef the cruise be about 
over, I conceit we’d better anchor hereabouts. 
But I shipped fur the voyage, and ye be capt’in, 
and as ye’ve finally got the right way to steer, 
I feel pretty safe techin’ the futur.” 

It was not until they had come to a full 
stop, and looked around them, that they real- 
ized the distance they had come ; for they had 
in truth slid nearly across the bay. 

“ I’ve boated a good many times on these 
waters, and under sarcumstances that called 
fur ’arnest motion, but I sartinly never .went 
across this bay as fast as I’ve did it to-day. 
How do ye feel, Bill, how do ye feel ? ” 

“A good deal shaken up,” was the answer, 
“a good deal shaken up.” 

“ I conceit as much,” answered the Trapper, 
u I conceit as much, fur ye left the sled with 
mighty leetle deliberation ; and when I saw 
yer legs cornin’ through the air, I sartinly 
doubted ef the ice would hold ye. But ye 


106 


JOHN NORTON'S CHRISTMAS. 


steered with jedgment ; yis, ye steered with 
jedgment, Bill; and I’d said it ef we’d gone 
to the bottom.” 

The sun was already set when they returned 
to the cabin ; for, selecting a safer course, they 
had given the children an hour’s happy sliding. 
The woman had prepared some fresh tea and a 
lunch, which they ate with lessened appetites, 
but w T ith humor that never flagged. When it 
was ended, the old Trapper rose to depart, and 
with a dignity and tenderness peculiarly his 
own, thus spoke: — 

“ My good woman,” he said, “the moon will 
soon be up, and the time has come fur me to 
be goin’. I’ve had a happy day with ye and 
the leetle uns ; and the trail over the mountain 
will seem shorter, as the pups and me go home, 
thinkin’ on’t. Wild Bill will stay a few days, 
and put things a leetle more to rights, and git 
up a wood-pile that will keep ye from choppin’ 
fur a good while. It’s his own thought, and 
ye can thank him accordin’ly.” Then, having 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


107 


kissed each of the children, and spoken a few 
words to Wild Bill, he took the woman’s hand, 
and said, — 

“ The sorrers of life be many, but the Lord 
never forgits. I’ve lived ontil my head be 
whitenin’, and I’ve noted that though he moves 
slowly, he fetches most things round about the 
time we need ’em ; and the things that be late 
in cornin’, I conceit we shall git somewhere 
furder on. Ye didn’t kill the big buck this 
mornin’, but the meat ye needed hangs at yer 
door, nevertheless.” And, shaking the woman 
heartily by the hand, he whistled to the hounds, 
and passed out of the door. The inmates of 
the cabin stood and watched him, until, hav- 
ing climbed the slope of the clearing, he disap- 
peared in the shadows of the forest ; and then 
they closed the door. But more than once 
Wild Bill noted that as the woman stood wip- 
ing her dishes, she wiped her eyes as well ; and 
more than once he heard her say softly to 
herself. “ God bless the dear old man!” 


108 


JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


Ay, ay, poor woman, we join thee in thy 
prayer. God bless the dear old man ! and not 
only him, but all who do the deeds he did. 
God bless them one and all ! 

Over the crusted snow the Trapper held his 
course, until he came, with a happy heart, to his 
cabin. Soon a fire was burning on his own 
hearthstone, and the hounds were in their ac- 
customed place. He drew the table in front, 
where the fire’s fine light fell on his work, and, 
taking some green vines and branches from 
the basket, began to twine a wreath. One he 
twined, and then he began another ; and often, 
as he twined the fadeless branches in, he paused, 
and long and lovingly looked at the two pic- 
tures hanging on the wall ; and when the 
wreaths were twined, he hung them on the 
frames, and, standing in front of the dumb 
reminders of his absent ones, he said, “ I miss 
them so ! ” 

Ah ! friend, dear friend, when life’s glad day 
with you and me is passed, when the sweet 












. 

























JOHN NORTON’S CHRISTMAS. 


109 


Christmas chimes are rung for other ears than 
ours, when other hands set the green branches 
up, and other feet glide down the polished floor, 
may there be those still left behind to twine us 
wreaths, and say, “ We miss them so / ” 

And this is the way John Norton the Trapper 
kept his Christmas. 
















































































































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